31. No Trace

TW: Descriptions of drowning

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As the world got colder and darker around Hongjoong, his mind detached from his body. No more pains ailed him. For a moment, he even forgot the horrendous memories of Yunho towering over him to brandish his knife.

Drowning wasn't the most pleasant way to go, especially in the murky water of the Thames that swallowed corpses all day long, but it wasn't so bad considering the alternative.

Hongjoong wouldn't be able to swim. By the time he would get stranded far outside of the city on the riverside, he would long be dead, and it would take days, or even weeks, to find his crippled body. Seonghwa would search for him if only to showcase his heroism towards his fiancée for the eyes of the public. Not that Hongjoong minded; the earl was simple-brained like that. Yet Hongjoong couldn't help his regret at the reminder that Seonghwa would find out he was a man after he had died. Without Hongjoong to yell at, how would Seonghwa convey his anger? He would be so disappointed in Hongjoong, so full of fury over his own stupidity.

Hongjoong wanted to chuckle at the imagination, but he tried to hold his breath for a while longer. He had lost his orientation, and the darkness surrounding him gave nothing away about which way was the surface, even if he would have reached it. As he floated with the current, Hongjoong hoped he wouldn't hit a pillar on his trip. His wounds burnt as they were already.

Perhaps Seonghwa would just ditch his body once he found out the truth. He would leave it to Yeosang to take care of it, and the tobacco dealer would contemplate his mood first before he acted on anything. Perhaps Hongjoong's corpse would get left to the Thames to gnaw him apart.

Shuddering, Hongjoong wanted to curl around himself to soothe his body, but the water wouldn't let him. It took him with it into its whirls of death that would swallow Hongjoong with much more force than he could ever have.

Hongjoong had a lot of unfinished business. Telling Seonghwa the truth about him was one of them. While he had hoped for the man to find out respectfully one day, the earl needed Hongjoong's help to understand. The fact that he could have known all along if he hadn't got so drunk on the first night they met still had Hongjoong scoff every time he remembered. Until a while ago, it had been hilarious to see the man struggle. By the time he had met Hongjoong with no feminine disguise and still mistaken him, the joke had become ridiculous.

Ever since they got closer, guilt gnawed at Hongjoong's heart. One kiss had turned into several and all along, he had been uncomfortably aware that Seonghwa didn't know. That Seonghwa thought he held a woman he had learned to love despite the many differences and prejudices between them.

The thought of it was sweet. Hongjoong liked the imagination of the arrogant earl who developed to love a woman from the lower class as they balanced out their differences. But there was no place for Hongjoong in this story. Knowing his heart fluttered when Seonghwa kissed him, Hongjoong shouldn't be with him while living his lie. Both of them would only be disappointed once the truth came out and Seonghwa shunned Hongjoong.

Aside from Seonghwa, Hongjoong had more people whom he would have wanted to have talked to before he died. While Yunho had chased him through the house, he had little time to think about it, but now that he had nothing left to do but drown in the rancid water of the Thames, all the things he had wanted to say crashed down on him. There hadn't been an expected end to his life so far, so he had stalled his thoughts for a better moment, but now that death dawned on him, he learned that there was no better moment. He could never know when things halted, and many words were left unsaid.

To Yeosang, Hongjoong had wanted to convey more of his contempt. While he had learned to appreciate Seonghwa, Yeosang's involvement had brought a lot of trouble over all of them and the weight of his favour had been much sturdier than the package he had delivered for Hongjoong. The man's sadistic enjoyment with seeing Hongjoong and Seonghwa on each other's throats at the beginning only to fall for each other while Yeosang smirked as if he had planned it all irked Hongjoong. Yeosang would have to repay some of that.

The next person was Jongho. The sweet butler had become such a dear friend to Hongjoong, whom he confided in with such dedication. Jongho had listened to a lot of Hongjoong's troubles and helped him out wherever he could, even when he knew Hongjoong for such a short while. To Seonghwa, that type of loyalty by his servants might be a standard, but to Hongjoong, it meant an unexpected companion in foreign surroundings. Jongho had been kind with his patience for Hongjoong's struggles to fit in, and he had supplied him with books and every dumb flower Seonghwa wanted Hongjoong to have. Hongjoong had thanked him before, but never in a way he thought adequate for Jongho's efforts.

Mingi also deserved some uplifting words. He and Hongjoong hadn't talked a lot since their paths crossed so infrequently, but Hongjoong had enjoyed every moment in the morning when he heard the man's deep voice telling goofy jokes to Emily and Jongho. The food would always be the best Hongjoong had ever eaten, and the flowers in Seonghwa's gardens wouldn't be cultivated half as well without the friendly giant. He and Emily deserved the same gratitude as Jongho for being a neutral middle between Seonghwa and Hongjoong, who had put up with their shenanigans with more diligence than either of the two class representatives could muster.

The conversation Hongjoong would have had with San was a long one. In recent weeks, since he became somewhat akin to a lover to Seonghwa, Hongjoong wondered a lot what San thought about Seonghwa when prompted with honesty. He wanted to hear about Seonghwa's positive attributes from someone as trustworthy as the other man. In return, Hongjoong would have told him about Yunho, would have told him that his hunch was correct and where to find the killer. Since Hongjoong couldn't watch out for Seonghwa and his manners, knowing San was around was an acceptable alternative.

Wooyoung was another sweet friend. When he first started 'courting' Seonghwa, Hongjoong hadn't expected to meet kin among the pretentious society surrounding Seonghwa. Wooyoung's presence had been a tremendous relief and offered understanding in the same way as Jongho did. He taught Hongjoong how to put up with their antics, and had offered his ear without looking down on Hongjoong's class despite their disagreements. Their letters had been a source of joy on bleak days, and Hongjoong had hoped to continue the chain even after his inevitable fallout with Seonghwa.

Hongjoong hadn't foreseen to collect so many dear memories in this part of London. On some days, he hadn't wanted to return to the slums, not just because of the decent payment and the luxury he gained from being on Seonghwa's side.

Water filled Hongjoong's lungs. His eyes were long since not open anymore and the more his consciousness drifted from him, the harder it got to breathe. He believed to see life flashing behind his eyes, but it wasn't all of life. It was scenes dear to him and the most succinct one was when he had visited Seonghwa in his room at night and the earl had held him in his arms. Back then, Hongjoong had been sure he wanted to be with Seonghwa, wanted to be embraced by him, wanted them to share every emotion with each other. If only he hadn't been such a coward.

Hongjoong passed out, drifting aimlessly. No more thoughts filled his brain, no more pain strained his body.

He was sure he had died for how long he was gone. And perhaps he had, for he didn't regain his bearings for many long minutes. He didn't know how hands reached for him to haul him out of the wet grave he had picked. Didn't know of the desperate hands flittering over him to save him.

He didn't know how the person trying to breathe life back into him had tears rolling over their cheeks that mixed with the dirty water of the river.

Hongjoong didn't exist anymore.

Until, all at once, he felt a touch to his collar. There was coldness, chilling, horrible coldness on his exposed chest and his head. The wig that had held him warm was lost in the house Yunho locked him in after he fell down the stairs.

A bone-crushing pressure met his chest. Hongjoong choked around the water in his lungs when it got forced out of him. Was he back outside the water? Could he breathe?

Hongjoong didn't see anything, couldn't move even a finger as it happened again. He was cautious to breathe in out of fear of swallowing more water, but the erratic promise of life returning to his heart compelled it to take the risk. There wasn't much more drowning if it didn't work.

When he breathed in, the water in his lungs mixed with the frosty air. He choked and tried to cough it up, but he laid on his back - when had he returned to a flat surface? - and it all returned to his mouth.

A sound hit his ears, but he couldn't place it. He didn't know if it was the Thames rushing, or his own blood pumping through his ears. Both were soothing to hear, since they meant he was alive and out of the water.

He moved, but not on his own accord, and suddenly he could cough out the water. It splattered under his cheek on the rough ground.

More air.

Hongjoong collapsed onto the dock when he took one shuddering inhalation after the other. His breathing ways were rubbed raw by the water getting in them and he was light-headed, but his heart strived off the oxygen as it raved in his chest.

In some odd stroke of fate, he was alive.

In disbelief, Hongjoong heaved. His wounds hurt as the blissful numbness of death's embrace parted from him to disappear like fog. For a moment, he yearned for it, then reality crashed down on him as his senses took up their function again.

Hongjoong's mouth tasted like death and the disgusting water of the Thames.

His skin was cold like ice and covered in goosebumps.

The air was so crisp he couldn't smell anything, just sniffle around the remaining bits of water in his lungs.

But he could hear. And the noise tickling his ears, that had become so obnoxious to listen to, gained clarity until he could make out a voice.

"-ong! Hongjoong, can you hear me?!"

It was a familiar voice and Hongjoong would have laughed about how it triggered annoyance in his brain right after hearing it. Since he couldn't, however, he forced his eyes open in reply. Talking was a concept foreign to his shredded throat.

The night was still dark, but this time, some nearby lights illuminated it. Their golden shine blurred in Hongjoong's wet eyes as he blinked to get some clarity to them.

For a moment, his eyes swiped over his setting. He laid on the ground at the promenade that shielded London from the floodings of the Thames. His chest was exposed under the upper part of his dress that had been ripped open. His corset was gone, but he spotted it to his right with its bindings cut and discarded to the side.

He also found Seonghwa. The man knelt by his side, his hair dripping wet as it clung to his forehead. Similar to Hongjoong, he was drenched and his white shirt and black pants clung to his frame. He shivered, but he didn't look cold.

Before Hongjoong could croak out his name, Seonghwa leaned over him. His cautious hands found their way under Hongjoong's body to cradle him and pull him up.

A moment later, he found himself in Seonghwa's embrace. Stunned into silence, Hongjoong rested there as the man held him up.

Seonghwa's hands on his back trembled.

"I got you. You're back," Seonghwa whispered in Hongjoong's ear. His voice sounded rough, though it was constricted by emotion.

Faint, Hongjoong let Seonghwa hold him while he rested. The wound on his leg had bled again since the knife had slipped out and he left a trail of blood, but Seonghwa held his body with such tender care.

Hongjoong felt the earl's lips on his forehead. The warm kiss on the frosty night reminded Hongjoong that he had survived. He had lived through meeting the Ripper.

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